My week embedded with US Forces in Afghanistan

* Gary Ramage
* From: Herald Sun
* June 11, 2010 5:50PM


Photographer Gary Ramage has spent the past week embedded with US Forces. He has watched a man die; he has been present at the evacuations of several others. This is his extraordinary story.

THIS has been one of the deadliest weeks on record for coalition forces fighting in Afghanistan.

Two Australian soldiers were killed in Tarin Kowt on Monday; seven US soldiers and one contractor were also killed.

Two more US Marines died the following day in Southern Afghanistan's Helmand Province, when seven Marines were brought down by an IED blast.

Two of those casualties were later confirmed to be the result of ''angels'' - the call sign for friendly KIA (Killed In Action) incidents.

The remains of one of the dead Marines were unable to be located. It is assumed that he took the brunt of the blast.

To date, a total of 1814 NATO soldiers have died whilst serving on the frontline in Afghanistan since 2001, 1022 of whom were US service personnel. Australia has lost 13 men.

I was in Southern Afghanistan's Helmand Province on Monday, embedded with the Dustoff crews from Charlie Company 6th Battalion Combat Airmobile Brigade (CAB) of the 101st Airborne Division.

I had arrived with the Blackhawk helicopter that flew first into the battle to pick up the injured US soldiers.

It was about 9am. I had just collected my breakfast, which consisted of a boiled egg, a hamburger patty, a pastry egg roll and some slices of cooked ham.

Oh yeah, and a very good smelling cup of coffee: my first in four weeks. I went outside to the dinner table and sat down.

I had just taken my first bite of the egg pastry thingy when the radio started bellowing, "Medivac, medivac, medivac''.

I dropped everything, took a final gulp of coffee and ran to the helo. I was the second one out there.

The pilot in control (PIC) of the aircraft, Warrant Officer Joseph Wonacott, started to get his gear on.

I did the same thing. The engine started to turn over.

The Crew Chief, sergeant Ryan Hara, medic-sergeant Adam Montavon and co-pilot Rob Ware joined the aircraft and also started dressing in their gear. We were up and gone in well under 15 minutes.

The timing was, and is, essential. If the medivac aircraft is not airborne in 15 minutes or less, the crew is required to send a "please explain'' letter to the US Secretary of Defence.

The crews need to launch within that time to give the injured people the best chance of survival. The men based at FOB Dwyer usually do it in seven or less.

The Blackhawk helicopters are used as the primary vehicle and are largely unarmed, as the Geneva Convention dictates.

The crews only carry sidearms and M4 rifles for self-preservation, in case they have to defend themselves.

When airborne, the Blackhawks are escorted by a chase helicopter and/or US military Cobra attack helicopters, which are heavily armed to repel any type of attack against the Blackhawk during its vital life-saving missions.

The helicopter crew is commonly referred to as Dustoff, which means "Dedicated Unhesitating Service To Our Fighting Forces'' and as such, the men and women of Charlie Company risk their lives every time they jump in the aircraft to go and save some poor Marine who has been blown up or shot.

Their motto is, "Never refuse a mission, never return with an empty helicopter and the needs of the patient come first''.

The role of the Dustoff is to evacuate wounded personal from coalition outposts - Forward Operating Bases (FOBs); Patrol Bases (PB) and Combat Outposts (COP).

Their task is to not only pick up wounded military personnel, but also civilian casualties, including the people who are trying to kill them.

The Dustoff have three levels of priority: Alpha, Bravo and Charlie. Alpha denotes "urgent'', Bravo is "serious but not life-threatening'' and Charlie is "not urgent''.

Their main mission is to reach casualties with the "golden hour'': the window of time before it is generally accepted that victims go from being treatable to fatalities.

On Monday, the Nine Liner - a coded system used by the military to call and rate the priorities of casualties - came over the intercom.

"One injured marine, sucking chest wound,'' we heard.

The boys started prepping the medical gear for the patient.

The radio sounded again and then came the message I had been dreading, "Hot LZ [Landing Zone], enemy in tree line, have Marines are pinned down, taking accurate fire on position, break''.

This was it; I was on my way into a shitfight, along with the Dustoff crew. Call sign Dustoff 66 was flying into a hot LZ.

We arrived over the area but there was mass confusion about where the enemy were firing from.

The Marines were still pinned down and taking fire. The Cobras were trying to confirm the enemy positions so they could "light them up'' and kill them.

Another call over the radio: "Patient is crashing''.

After a minute or two, we were given approval to go in.

The engines roared as we came in quick. Nose up, and then we were on the ground.

The side doors flew open and the medic raced out towards a group of Marines.

He had run about 200m when he finally them, struggling under the weight of their badly-injured comrade.

As Sergeant Adam Montavon recalled, "By the time I reached him on the ground, I could see he was in trouble and told the Marines to get him to the bird.''

They all raced back to the helo and placed him inside.

The Marines jumped out, the doors were slammed shut and we were back in the air. The medic started work on the injured man straight away.

He was in a very bad way. He had taken a round to the upper left side of his chest.

He was bleeding profusely. The medic quickly began treating him.

"I went to work on him straight away, trying to get a pulse, but there was none. I began compressions and Ryan started squeezing the bag to get oxygen into him. He wasn't responding'', Sgt Montavan said.

Even so, the crew chief and the medic did not stop CPR during the whole flight.

They tried everything in their power to save that boy's life.

I could see Sgt Montavon kneeling upright in the back of the helo, pressing down on the Marine's chest, trying to get his heart to start. We were still a good 15 minutes out from the hospital.

We came in fast and low to the Role 3 Hospital.

The door flew open and the medic frantically waved towards the waiting staff to get to the aircraft.

It was a slow process.

The medical staff tried to get him onto a wheeled litter but it had got stuck in the makeshift hard stand.

I dropped my cameras, grabbed both stretcher handles and pulled upwards.

I took his weight so the medics could untangle the trolley. They eventually unengaged it and took him towards the hospital.

When the boys returned we lifted off and flew back to the Dustoff hardstand. The back of the aircraft was a real mess.

There was blood and used medical supplies everywhere.

"The Marine was gone - he most probably left us before being placed on the Blackhawk - but I still had to try and save him, that's my job'', Sgt Montavan said.

Once the engines were shut off, the rest of the detachment came out and started to help strip the armour platting from the floor so they could wash out all of the blood.

They handed out plastic gloves and began to scrub. I put my cameras down again, and started to help with the cleanup. After we had finished, Sgt Derek Costine called my name.

"Gary...catch.'' He threw me the unit patch and said, "Welcome, thanks for helping out''.

The time now was about 10.30am.

This was day two of my embed with Dustoff. It is going to be a busy two weeks.

The following day I went to bed at about 2am. I sat up with the first up crew in case there was a call-out. There wasn't, but then at 6am we were woken by "Medivac, medivac, medivac'' over the radios.

This time, seven Marines had been caught in an IEDs blast.

Two were confirmed "Angels'' - the call sign for friendly Killed In Action.

All birds launched.

Travelling at 30m above the deck at a speed of 225km/h, we reached the LZ in a matter of minutes.

We picked up three injured priority B patients in our helo and another Blackhawk got the rest.

We took the walking wounded. Two had blast or shrapnel injuries to their heads and the other boy had copped shrapnel in the left side of his face.

The medic, Sgt Bradley Robbins, went to work. Crew Chief Jason Norris (who hates the nickname "Chuck'') looked out for incoming rounds.

Pilot in Charge Warrant Officer Adam Stratton and co-pilot Steve King got the bird in the air and we made our way back to Dwyer to drop the patients at the Role 3 hospital. We returned to the helo pad.

A few hours later we were off again. This time to pick up a local little boy who was showing symptoms of poisoning.

As it turned out he had ingested quite a lot of diesel fuel. He was taken to the Role 3 as well.

The hospitals are starting to appear at various locations around Afghanistan - now that the fighting season is well and truly under way, the medics and hospital staff have their work cut out for them.

The evacuation process is to get the casualty back to a Role 3 facility for treatment and then evacuate to the US military hospital in Landstuhl, Germany, and later the Walter Reid Army medical facility in Washington DC.

On the frontline, the US Army medics are highly-trained and equipped for any medical emergency.

They administer life-saving first aid to the wounded men and women unfortunate enough to end up in the back of their bird.

They do their basic training at the Hunter Army Airfield in Georgia.

During the 18-week course, they are taught how to control bleeding and other basic medical skills. The helo medics do another four weeks of intensive training before joining their unit.

The medics can administer drugs and keep patients stabilised, all in the confined space of the back of a Blackhawk helicopter travelling at speeds of up to 320km/h at ground level.

The Blackhawk has twin 1600hp engines, which enable it to achieve its outstanding power and speed. The current models are due for a refurbishment by 2013.

Each is equipped with anti-missile capabilities, or decoy systems.

They have magnesium flares that trick the guidance system of incoming heat-seeking missiles, which would otherwise down the aircraft.

The war in Afghanistan is indeed an unbalanced one that sees 21st centuary weapon platforms pitted against a dedicated insurgency whose whole aim is to kill Coalition soldiers.

They are succeeding with alarming accuracy.

Whether it by Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs) planted on some roadside or track, a sneak ambush utilising old captured soviet era weapons or sickening suicide attacks, they are taking the fight to the NATO forces.

The Taliban watch the soldiers and they attack them when they choose. They drop their weapons in the fields when soldiers get close and act other normal Afghani man working their fields.

"It is f...... hard for us to fight an enemy that we can not easily identify, especially with the current rules of engagement that we are bound by'', a Marine said this week.

So is the current Counter Insurgency (COIN) policy - to win the hearts and minds of the Afghan people - working? That's yet to be determined.

The generals and the politicians would have you believe it is, but when you speak to the soldier on the ground whose blood is being spilled, it is a totally different story.

They believe in the cause but say they are fed up fighting an enemy with one hand tied behind their backs.

For all that though, they continue to return to the frontline. As long as soldiers and Marines continue to fall victim to the horrible injuries of war, they will continue to fly to their sides.